


Trigger Happy

by DemonsDaughter



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Emotional Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsDaughter/pseuds/DemonsDaughter
Summary: Ultra Magnus intended for his night to go as it always does, arresting drunks on their way out of Swerve's bar. Instead he finds himself confronted with a drunken Tailcutter asking about leg guns, how they trigger, and soon after is bombarded by sexual innuendos from Whirl. Worried that a flustered Ultra Magnus has become upset, Rodimus leaves the bar early to check on his friend and cheer him up.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaBlitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaBlitz/gifts).



> This is a gift for TaBlitz! Thanks again for leaving such thoughtful comments on my work and giving me the encouragement to keep writing! I hope you enjoy this Magnus and Rodimus smut!!!!!!!! :D

The bar was something new, dangerous, and categorized right away into Ultra Magnus’ bad list. He had tried to shut it down once for lack of a permit, then attempted another time to claim Swerve was not a licensed bartender and therefore could not serve drinks (which he later found out the mech /was/ a bartender by some freak chance…or perhaps Tailgate’s quick thinking to forge the license…which he was looking into, of course), but Magnus had given up after that. 

Let the bar be and arrest the drunks and the troublemakers as they emerged from the lion’s den of vices. Magnus had waited patiently at his desk until it reached one o’ clock in the morning when arrests from the bar were most prevalent, then rose from his chair in a ruffle of armor. The semi truck gazed sternly at himself in his mirror, getting ready for a good night.

It was time to get to work.  
***  
“Guys! Hey, have I ever mentioned how dumb leg guns are? Why would anyone need those in their legs? Gonna shoot a bot with your knee or something? How…how would a bot even trigger and reload it, y’know?” Trailcutter was asking Whirl and Swerve, optics unfocused and foggy with the effects of alcohol behind his visor. Whirl huffed, clicking his clawed hands together. 

“C’mon, loser, you gotta know how a mech triggers! Just gotta slide your hand up a little higher on that leg and you’ll find what makes him fire off,” Whirl snickered, punching Trailcutter in a playful way that sent the poor bot keeling off his bar stool and onto the floor. 

Rodimus entered just as Trailcutter fell, the heavy truck landing with a thump and a loudly announced ‘don’t worry guys, I’m all good! Din’ even feel it!’ Rodimus grinned, a pep in his step as he entered the jovial atmosphere. It sure beat discussing policies and plans with Magnus. The bot was great, but Rodimus couldn’t handle him 24/7 unless he miraculously loosened up. Sadly everyone thought finding the Knights of Cybertron had a higher probability. 

“Hey, Swerve!”

“You want the usual, Rodimus?”

“Yep, give me a good shot of neon in this one, I need the extra fizz after going over room policies. Better not have any hanging wall tapestries when Mags goes to inspect quarters because according to him they’re all level 6 fire hazards,” Rodimus said, shaking his head a bit. “He seemed happy about the fact he could find more things to enforce, but I’m going to tell him to knock it off if he gets hyper about it. I’m not into that. I’d rather wing it and live life while it’s good! Let everyone decorate their tiny hab suites the way they want.”

“Boy, do I feel the same way, Rodimus!” Swerve laughed, getting the muscle car’s favorite high grade with two hearty shots of infused neon. The drink glowed a freakish yellow once he was done, sliding it over to the tricolor mech.

“Cheers to that!”

Rodimus downed his shot and purred when he felt it burn on the way down, licking his lips at the sweet aftertaste. Swerve had made it a potent one and the muscle car intended to enjoy it. Well, he had intended to until Ultra Magnus entered the scene. Swerve cursed under his breath, swiftly throwing some illegal circuit-speeder mixes under the counter. Not all bots wanted to dabble in them, but he wasn’t the sort to judge!

“Trailcutter, you’re under arrest for public intoxication,” Magnus announced, sounding as happy as could be while he hauled Trailcutter up to his shaky pedes. Then he turned to Swerve, quick to scan the bar for any infractions. “The bar appears to be in code, but I will inspect it more in depth once I have properly written Trailcutter up.”

“Hey, why’d you come and ruin the party, Mags? We were having a good time!” Whirl snapped, standing up on impossibly spindly legs. “Also, it’s a private joint, so technically you /can’t/ arrest Trailcutter until he leaves the bar and tries to drive off. I call false arrest!” 

Magnus tensed when he realized Whirl did have a tiny, tiny point. He could argue his position, of course, but when Whirl started getting riled up it made things difficult. 

“Whirl, if you continue your poor behavior I will have to arrest you as well for obstructing an Enforcer while on the job and for causing a disturbance…” he warned, voice stern. Whirl wasn’t having any of it, though, instead choosing to throw a much louder fit.

“I read up on all your codes and stuff, so you better watch out! I’m an informed citizen!” Whirl hissed threateningly, Trailcutter shifting from pede to pede in a shaky, drunk way. 

“Hey, Ultra Magnus? Is it true that to trigger a leg gun you have to jerk off like Whirl said earlier?” he mumbled, not at all bothered that he was technically detained. He simply thought in his drunken logic that Ultra Magnus knew a lot of things and would likely know the answer to that question as well.

“…Excuse me?” Magnus said briskly, his entire frame going numb. 

Interfacing was NOT something he knew a great deal about. For once in his long life Ultra Magnus was rendered vulnerable, swallowing dryly. Whirl noticed the sudden opening in the other mech’s defenses and lunged at it like a cyber-wolf with open jaws, ready to rip out the main line of his prey.

“You heard him, Mags. How does a bot blow a load and fire off his main gun?” Whirl snickered, leaning in closer. He could sense the panic in Ultra Magnus, the mech trying to sift through thousands of legal codes but finding nothing that could arm him with the knowledge he needed to combat a sexual innuendo. 

“Whirl, profanity and vulgar connotations are-”

“-not against the law and I can totally say all sorts of stuff. Right, Rodimus?”

“Huh?” Rodimus asked, having already started to zone out from his potent high grade.

Ultra Magnus became even more flustered when he saw that the leader of the Lost Light expedition was /inebriated/ and instantly fluffed up his armor like a bothered owl. He needed to do something about this! First Whirl had challenged him on a law code, then the sexual innuendos had started, and now Rodimus was slipping further into troublemaker status by drinking! Magnus couldn’t believe the amount of infractions that were occurring all at once.

“Can I go now?” Trailcutter asked, giving Magnus a big pout. “I won’t do nothing except sit here…and try to figure out why everybody likes leg guns.”

“You have to let him go, Magnus! I know the law now, buddy-boy! Better watch out or I’ll turn into a fragging lawyer!” Whirl yipped, dancing around Magnus on his backward facing legs, clicking his claws as he did so. It was a bit too much for Ultra Magnus, so he let Trailcutter go with a very stern warning and an even sterner scolding at Whirl. 

“I appreciate that you have learned some of the laws and policies, Whirl, but in order to be a good citizen one must not discuss vulgarity in a public setting.”

“Pfff, freedom of speech! Right, Roddy?”

“Yeah, sure! Whatever…hey, Swerve, can you make me another drink and get one for Magnus, too?”

“I will NOT be partaking in any of this drinking nonsense!” Magnus shot back, getting a pleading look from Rodimus. 

“But Maaaaagnus, you have to at least have one shot with us! It’ll help you loosen up! I mean, you might even smile again if you take a shot!”

“Oh, yeah! Let’s see him try to grin and bear it!” Whirl whooped, leaping onto a bar stool and spinning around on it excitedly. “I can think of a better one, wait a sec…”

“I can make you anything your spark desires, Ultra Magnus! And it’ll be on the house since you’ve been so good about letting me have my permit,” Swerve said cheerfully, trying to butter up Magnus so he could gather all the exciting gossip that would surely arise from an intoxicated Enforcer.

“No. My answer is final,” Magnus said, stiffly turning on his heel to head out. “Rodimus, I’ll expect you to check in with me before you head in for recharge as I have two new forms I need you to sign.”

“Yeah, sure! I’ll be there!” Rodimus laughed, sounding way too happy about the forms to be sober. Magnus huffed, armor ruffling again with frustration. He had been so sure he’d have made some good arrests tonight! But he supposed there would be other times to catch the crew committing infractions. They had a knack for ignoring rules.

With that said, Ultra Magnus almost made it out before Whirl called out to him one last time. 

“Hey, before you go around arresting people maybe you should loosen up by blowing a load, yeah? You need it! It sure helps me out when I need to be decent!” 

Magnus felt his cheeks burn red hot as he strode out of the bar, hearing some snickering behind him that likely belonged to Rodimus, Swerve, Trailcutter, and a handful of others. Whirl was a problem and always had been, but the helicopter hadn’t broken any known laws yet. Magnus would have to wait until a better opportunity came up to arrest him for something. 

The blue and red mech plodded back to his office, the room connected to his hab suite. He didn’t have a roommate. Not because people disliked him, of course, but because he preferred to work alone. That was what he told himself and it always seemed to suffice. Checking the time, the mech decided he wouldn’t see Rodimus anytime soon. Surely he would remain in the bar getting sufficiently drunk before he came to check in about the forms. So Magnus decided he could take a quick rinse in his private wash rack.

The semi truck slipped into the small but tidy rack and turned on the hot oil, waiting until it was a good temperature before he walked inside the stall. He rumble-purred as the shower of warmth cascaded over him, the mech turning his faceplate into the spray. It felt good to get cleaned off after a hard day of work. He had organized six Tyrest Accord documents and reread the Autobot code for fun when he had found himself with some leisure time.

All in all, it had been a great day until Whirl had decided to ruin things with mentions of interfacing.

Faceplate blushing again even when in private, Ultra Magnus huffed and scrubbed his frame more aggressively with a sponge full of cleanser. He didn’t need to do…any of those unmentionable things to loosen up! He didn’t need to be any looser than he was by letting Trailcutter and Whirl off the hook that night!

Even so, he eyed his spike panel with an accusing glower. He certainly had an impressive ‘gun’ as Whirl so fondly called it. Before he knew what he was doing, Magnus popped back the panel and let his spike emerge. He was surprised to find it was slightly pressurized by the conversation earlier and sighed. He couldn’t arrest biology, so all he could do was deal with the problem accordingly and hope that it didn’t continue.

One of his hands curled around the breeding organ to give it a squeeze, the spike responding quickly to the rare stimulation. With only a few hearty strokes, Magnus was standing at full attention, his spike glistening as oil pattered across it and rolled down the underside. The tip was sharp, a sign of a virile Sire type. Someone like Whirl would probably think it was a shame that Magnus didn’t use it much.

There weren’t many bots that he’d want to use it on, either. There were one or two, but Magnus was too shy and dedicated to his work to approach anyone for a ‘one night fling’ as they often called it. Or a relationship for that matter. So he had never bothered to think about interfacing or finding a partner. It simply wasn’t efficient or lawful or something an Enforcer should be doing. 

But in the privacy of his wash rack, he thought he could loosen up as everyone told him to and get a taste for what interfacing was all about. He remembered having a few romps a long time ago when he had been younger and in training to be an Enforcer, but that was so far back in his very long life that he really had forgotten most of it. 

Luckily for him, his night was about to take another unexpected turn rather soon.

Rodimus had decided it was time to call it quits at the bar. Everyone was poking fun at Magnus and honestly, as much of a grump as he could be, Rodimus liked the guy and didn’t really appreciate all the comments. Rodimus eventually wandered off to see how the Enforcer was doing in his office. He had caught Magnus blushing, so he figured the bot was probably upset and bothered by what had happened. And the best way to make a mech like Ultra Magnus better was to go and meet with him about all the paperwork he had dreamed up.

“Magnus, you in here?” Rodimus asked as he entered the office and found no blue and red semi truck at his desk. Frowning, he rubbed his helm and tried to focus his foggy mind. He was still a bit drunk and thoughts took a few extra seconds to fully process. Even so, he wandered further into the room.

Rodimus perked up when he heard a wash rack running and happily trotted into Magnus’ private quarters. He had gone in there before to call the bot for things and bother him about new plans. So it wasn’t strange at all that he let himself in and went right up to the wash rack. 

“Magnus, I came to do all the new codes or whatever you…frag, did I interrupt?”

Rodimus couldn’t believe what he saw when he peered into the wash rack. Behind the glass stall door was Ultra Magnus in all his glory, the mech’s spike erect and proudly standing at attention. The truck whipped around in a startled panic when he realized he was not alone and stared in shock at Rodimus. 

Rodimus swallowed dryly, not sure what he was supposed to say. So he said the first thing that came to mind and that was…

“…Nice spike.”

“What are you doing in here?!” Ultra Magnus yelped, the most flustered he had ever sounded or been in his life. The mech desperately tried to get his turgid spike back behind its panel, but to his dismay the breeding organ was intent on staying stiff until he got off.

“I came to make sure you were okay and stuff after all of Whirl’s comments. That and I wanted to get the forms done that you mentioned,” Rodimus explained, trying to play it real cool despite the fact he was talking to Ultra Magnus while the mech’s spike was on display. It made it hard to concentrate! “So uh…do you need help with that? Because I’m a valve kinda guy and sure wouldn’t mind seeing what you can do with that thing!”

“I will NOT be interfacing with the commander of the mission!” Ultra Magnus said hurriedly, once again trying to force the spike to go away. His cheeks were heated red metal as he did so, his length unwilling to depressurize even in a stressful situation. “Rodimus, I must ask you to leave. This is extremely unprofessional and indecent and-”

“Nah, don’t even worry about it! We all self service and get caught in the act sometimes,” Rodimus said cheerfully, actually coming closer so that he was right outside the wash rack. “Wanna do it in the rack or outside over your desk? That would be really hot…”

“Rodimus!” Ultra Magnus yelped, trapped in the shower but unable to do much about it. “You are surely drunk! This cannot happen while you’re drunk! I…you…there must be complete and total consent before any participants begin the act of interfacing.”

Rodimus pouted, taking a step back and putting up his hands. “Magnus, please? I always liked you even if you are a pain sometimes. And if you like me, we can get to know each other better! Come on, I’m a huge catch and it’ll be fun if we can make something work! I have a thing for the bigger models, too, so I’m one hundred percent down for a romp.”

Magnus was so out of his element that he didn’t know how to respond or how to proceed. Did he allow himself to couple with the leader of the mission? Was he going against any rules and regulations as an Enforcer? He had already gone through the code twice in his head trying to find something about interfacing, but he found nothing. It looked as though he could…do things…provided he and Rodimus equally chose to. 

“It is never a good idea to have romantic relations of any kind in a work environment, Rodimus,” he tried one last time, his spike twitching in annoyance at his lame attempt to avoid a potentially satisfying situation.

“I don’t care. I run the ship and I call the shots, so I say we both get down and dirty! It’ll loosen you up and get rid of your extra charge. Plus I’m more than happy to wake up next to you in the morning. I like you, but had no idea you even had the emotions in there to like me back! This is an exciting night, Magnus!”

Rodimus beamed a bright smile as Magnus slowly opened the door of the wash rack, the steam from the hot oil misting across the muscle car’s frame. He shivered, topaz optics admiring Magnus’. Oil rolled across his plating and dipped into armor seams, giving Magnus the appearance of a god emerging from a waterfall or some other fantastical scene. The semi truck turned his gaze away in shame and embarrassment, cheeks still flush and hot. 

“Hey, you don’t need to get all worked up about this! We can keep it secret.”

“I would hope our private matters would not become the gossip of the ship,” Magnus said sternly, grabbing a towel from a stand beside the wash rack. “One moment, let me get dried off.”

Rodimus watched with appreciation as Ultra Magnus began to rub himself down with the towel, wiping away the oil droplets with smooth strokes. The truck’s frame gleamed from the wash and everything about him screamed handsome to the muscle car. Before Rodimus could help himself, his powerful racing engine gave a low rev. Magnus’ hands faltered briefly at the sound, once again trying not to blush when he realized all of the arousal was directed towards him. He wasn’t used to showing off or being looked at like this!

“You’re not only an amazing Enforcer, but you’re also exceptionally hot. You don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now and that makes you even more enticing,” Rodimus sighed, optics dimmed in a sultry and inviting way. “Do you mind being on top? I’m more of a valve mech and Primus, do I want you to pound me with that hammer of yours…not the real one, but you know what I mean.”

Ultra Magnus dropped the towel when yet another sexual innuendo was mentioned. He had no idea how he was supposed to react to them besides getting even more embarrassed. It seemed so easy for Rodimus and the other members of the crew to spout them off, but Magnus couldn’t think of a single witty thing to say back. It made sense considering he wasn’t exactly the most creative of bots (unless it came to planning strategy or writing up laws), so he went with the best thing he could think of; a compliment.

“Your polish looks very well today,” he praised, a bit awkward but said in good nature as he picked up the damp towel and et it back on the stand to dry.

“Thanks, Ultra Magnus! I try,” Rodimus purred, sending the larger bot a flirty grin. Magnus chuffed, armor ruffling at the attention. “So, you want to do this on the berth and keep things traditional? I figure you probably like that kind of thing.”

“Traditional is good,” Magnus hummed, gaining some confidence as he strode past Rodimus towards the berth.

Rodimus trotted past Magnus and leapt onto the berth before the larger mech made it to the soft yet modest recharging area. Rodimus rolled over onto his chassis and turned his bright gaze on the older mech, once again flashing his brilliant smile. 

“So you’ll take top spot?”

“If you would like that,” Magnus said, carefully getting onto the berth so that he didn’t jostle Rodimus too much. He startled slightly when he suddenly found his lap full of tricolor muscle car, a soft purr thrumming from Rodimus’ high performance engine. “Rodimus, I’m not the sort to enjoy teasing…” he warned, picking the smaller mech up under his arms and setting him down on the berth again.

“Can I at least suck you off? I want to show off for you.”

Ultra Magnus chuffed at that, his spike pulsing with need. Some foreplay was always a good idea. Plus, considering their size difference, they would need to make sure Rodimus was good and ready before they coupled. 

“You can do that if you wa-aaahh,” Magnus gasped when the commander leaned over, grasped the base of his spike, and took as much of the organ as he could fit into his mouth. 

Rodimus hummed, the vibration making Magnus shiver with need. The hot, wet warmth around his spike made the truck strain to keep control. He knew better than to start bucking, having remembered back in the Academy when Barricade had accidentally jerked during oral and nearly punctured another mech’s throat with the sharp tip of his spike. Magnus did not want to have a replay of that night, so he held his hips steady, watching with a transfixed gaze as Rodimus bobbed his head up and down across as much of the impressive spike as he could. Occasionally the muscle car would gaze up at him, taking Magnus ever closer to the limit of his control. 

Rodimus was hotter than hell and the Enforcer couldn’t believe what was happening. In all honesty, it felt like a dream or some kind of fever induced hallucination. Was he seriously laying on his berth with Rodimus between his thighs giving him a blow job? Magnus turned his optics on and off a few times, blinking in a desperate attempt to figure out what was reality. 

“You okay, Mags?” Rodimus asked after his mouth moved off of the spike with an audible ‘pop.’

“I am…very well, Rodimus,” Magnus grunted, armor rising on his frame to allow some extra heat to dissipate.

Rodimus was going to say something else, but was silenced as Magnus rolled over on top of him and locked their lips in a kiss. The smaller mech mewled sweetly into the affection, parting his thighs instinctually as he slid back his valve cover. Even if Magnus wasn’t aggressively taking the role of dominant, Rodimus loved that he was gaining some confidence.

He reached up and wrapped his arms around a strong neck, arching his hips in a desperate attempt to connect his valve with Magnus’ spike. Ultra Magnus broke the kiss to lightly nibble along Rodimus’ neck and jawline, Rodimus whining with longing. 

“Pleeeeaaase, do something…I’m burning up, Magnus!” he panted, topaz blue optics gazing up at azure ones. Magnus hid a smile as Rodimus then peppered his faceplate with kisses, begging for more stimulation and attention. It was so Rodimus to be needy like that, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Deep down, he found Rodimus’ behaviors rather cute. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. Our sizes are quite different and I need to be sure I will not tear you.”

“Magnus, I can take it!” Rodimus fussed, mewling when he felt one of Magnus’ hands slide between his legs and fondle at his outer node. He keened with longing, his helm thrown back against the pillows of the berth. “Okay…I never expected you to do that! Unnnff, you’re full of surprises!”

Soon after Rodimus was writhing in pleasure under Magnus as the truck slid a digit between puffy valve lips. Rodimus’ frame eagerly accepted the intrusion, his valve relaxed and greedily clamping down around the digit. Magnus thankfully had a memory like a steel trap and pulled up some of his old flings from when he was much younger. He knew the spots to reach in a valve and got to work on Rodimus. 

“Where’d you learn to-hnnngggg, yesss! Right there! Ooooh, frag, Magnus curl your finger just a little more…YES!”

When the smaller mech started to get too loud, Magnus captured him again in a kiss as he eased a second finger inside a slippery valve. There was ample lubricant, but the outer valve caliper tensed up and barred entry for a few moments, the stretch a bit too much. Going slow, Magnus eventually coaxed his digit inside and was glad to find Rodimus’ frame willing to accept the second finger. 

Scissoring his digits, he pressed them both up against the ceiling node that could rarely, if at all, be reached with a spike, Rodimus gasping for intakes as he broke their kiss and keened for more. 

“Magnus, I’m sure…so, so sure, that I can take you. ALL of you. Just…/please,/ I want you like nothing else!”

“You must promise that if anything hurts-”

“I’ll use as safeword! How about ‘orange?’ Let’s use that. I’ll yell ‘orange’ if I need you to stop, but I sure as hell won’t ask for that.”

“I’ll be careful, but you really have to tell me if something doesn’t feel good.”

“Ultra Magnus, shut up and frag me already!”

“Is that an order?” Magnus growled, lightly nipping Rodimus’ throat cabling before he lined up his spike and carefully guided the sharp tip past swollen valve folds. 

Rodimus’ valve was so much better than his mouth, Magnus having to once again command control of himself as the urge to mount and rut threatened to take over. The head of his spike pushed past the valve rim, but then the truck started to meet some resistance. Rodimus was clawing at his back, assuring him he could take more. 

“I know it’s a tight fit, but I promise it doesn’t hurt. It’s just a lot of pressure, but that’s all good with me!”

Magnus nodded, continuing to lightly mouth and kiss at Rodimus to distract him in case it did start to ache. He didn’t want to cause harm, but he also didn’t want to pull out. The gripping heat around his spike was amazing, the greedy slit soft and welcoming. His spike slid deeper, Magnus giving a tiny grunt and a jerk of his hips when for a moment he almost let his control go. Rodimus squeaked at the jerk, but didn’t say the safeword. 

“You’re all the way in…” Rodimus said, snapping Magnus out of a trance-like daze that he had slipped into. He had started to imagine some very lewd and not at all professional things to distract himself from rutting, glad when he found himself fully sheathed.

His spike pulsed inside Rodimus’ tight depths, the breeding organ almost entirely buried in the muscle car’s frame. Magnus vented a shaky sigh, kissing Rodimus’ parted lips. 

“Do you want me to tie with you when we get to that point?”

“Frag, yes. And Magnus?”

“Yes, Rodimus?” Magnus asked, starting to roll his hips in a smooth and easy rhythm. Rodimus gasped breathlessly, meeting the inward thrusts with his own hips. 

“Can I stay the night? Once we finish?”

“Of course. I would never send you out,” Magnus rumbled, his voice as close to a purr as Rodimus had ever heard it. The sound was sexier than he could have imagined and his valve fluttered around the truck’s godly spike. The stiff length slid across every node cluster and sensor net as it moved in and out, in and out, the pace speeding up slowly but surely as Magnus felt his partner’s frame adjusting to the intrusion.

Rodimus could only reply with a quick kiss on Magnus’ cheek before he threw back his helm and wailed with passionate need, feeling Magnus speed up and start to mate with him in earnest. There was no more shyness, the Enforcer now displaying his power and endurance. Rodimus’ hands slid across the wide expanse of Magnus’ back, dipping between armor seams as he felt muscle cabling ripple and flex under a layer of protoflesh and armor. Magnus was glorious, his big, powerful frame everything Rodimus had imagined it would be. He was not ashamed to admit he had often gotten off in his room with some very similar fantasies playing out in his head.

But this time, it was real.

“Yes, yes, YES! Magnus, give it to me!” he howled, Magnus happy to comply. 

Magnus at last allowed himself to let go of his legendary control, thrusting feverishly into Rodimus’ tight heat. The valve clamped down around the invading spike, trying to draw it deeper so the sharp tip could pierce the gel wall and create young. At this point, their lust and breeding protocols were in full force. Rodimus’ vocalizer nearly shorted out as he screamed from a sudden and overwhelmingly good overload, his body arching against Magnus as the semi truck moved against him.

“Hnnnnggggg, ooohh, frag! Ultra Magnus…you’re….amazing, oh my Primus!”

Magnus didn’t answer, panting loudly from his open mouth as he chased his own overload. He was close, his lower middle tightening and his frame starting to curl possessively over Rodimus. Thankfully he had the intelligence not to let his breeding protocols win over his common sense, holding back just enough so that his last deep jerks didn’t push the spike tip into Rodimus’ gel wall. 

Sparklings were cute, but Magnus didn’t intend on having any accidents.

He pressed his chassis against Rodimus’, seeking proximity as his frame shuddered and had the best overload of his life. Rodimus’ tight and impossibly hot valve was heavenly and Magnus’ little-used equipment was thrilled to finally have a chance to perform. 

Rodimus had another smaller overload when he watched Magnus’ faceplate morph into a peaceful, pleasured expression and his entire frame shudder. He groaned when felt a gush of hot transfluid pump into him, an impressive spike knot engorging at the base of Magnus’ spike soon after. It locked them together in a matter of seconds, the pressure bordering on pain for a few minutes as Rodimus panted heavily and tried to relax. He knew he wouldn’t tear, but Primus, was Ultra Magnus a big mech! He felt the truck’s spike twitching as it unloaded the last of its transfluid, remaining turgid even after the overload finished. It would likely stay stiff until the knot eased up and they pulled apart. Rodimus even felt his lower middle plating bump out ever so slightly to accommodate the influx of trapped fluid, his valve spasming at the sensation.

“That was incredible!” Rodimus whispered, rubbing Magnus’ heaving sides. The big mech had given himself a workout and needed a few seconds to catch his breath and recover. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a great time as well,” he hummed, carefully settling them on their sides so his spike tie wouldn’t pull uncomfortably at Rodimus’ valve. Rodimus winced a bit as he was jostled, but once they settled down together he snuggled right up against the larger bot and purred quietly. 

“Can we do this again?”

“So long as it does not distract you or myself from our duties,” Magnus rumbled, nuzzling Rodimus’ hot cheek. “And you must keep this quiet from the others.”

Rodimus grinned, cupping Magnus’ helm in his hands before he kissed him once more. He would never get sick of kissing him, loving how even after the interface Magnus would blush slightly at the affections. 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret!”  
Magnus chuckled, actually moving his lips into a semblance of a smile. He was getting better at the expression now and had a feeling the more time he spent with Rodimus, the more easily the smile would appear. He certainly wouldn’t let it cause trouble at work, but the mech did have to admit he felt more complete now that he had a much more intimate social life. 

“Sleep well, Rodimus,” he murmured, seeing Rodimus’ optics starting to dim. 

“G’night, Magnus! I’ll see you in the morning. And maybe I can bring my favorite pillows here tomorrow night to make things even more comfortable. You’d like them. They’re way softer than the ones you have.”

Magnus agreed, letting Rodimus have his fun. He didn’t realize for a second that the other mech was already plotting to move in and become a more permanent resident in his berthroom and hab suite. Instead he lay in content bliss, listening to Rodimus’ steady intakes while he himself began to be lulled to recharge. 

***

“Hey, quit stepping on my pedes! They might be skinny but I can still feel things y’know!” Whirl hissed, swatting Trailcutter’s side when the SUV stepped on him.

“Sorry…”

“Did you just hear what I heard?”

“No, what is it? We don’t all have hawk hearing like you do, Swerve! That and I was stuck dealing with forcefield-for-brains.”

Trailcutter pouted, Whirl blowing a raspberry at him.

“Magnus said Rodimus can bring his pillows next time.”

“Are you serious?! Stick-up-the-aft Mags is letting Rodimus move in! Guys, we’ve got so much juicy gossip here!” Whirl cackled, clicking his claws together. 

“But…they said they don’t want anybody to know!” Trailcutter said weakly, still relatively drunk and unaware of what was going on.

They had only recently closed up the bar and heard Rodimus making a racket in a nearby room. They had followed the sounds and been shocked when they found out where they were coming from and of course had stuck around to see how things played out. All three had their audio receptors pressed to the door of Ultra Magnus’ hab suite, curious as could be about the new couple that was developing. 

“Let’s tell Tailgate! He and Cyclonus can get Magnus and Roddy to double date!” Swerve yipped, watching as Whirl’s single optic morphed into a crescent signaling sneaky excitement.

“I like the way you think, Swerve! Let’s go!”

And with that the trio stumbled off to drunkenly report to Tailgate about the blooming romance while Rodimus and Magnus fell into recharge together, Rodimus’ faceplate tucked peacefully under Magnus’ chin while the Enforcer’s frame curled protectively around his smaller companion.


End file.
